


Lips of an Angel

by monochromevelyn



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Pain, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:33:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1271857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monochromevelyn/pseuds/monochromevelyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt ‘What if things didn’t end well after they came out of the closet?’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips of an Angel

Running his fingers through his hair time and again, tugging it, Aomine did not understand why it was so hard for him to sleep tonight. He was tired, and he was pretty sure it would be another tiring day at work tomorrow. If only the house was roofless and the vast night sky decorated with tiny little stars were there for him to count until sleep descends. He tossed to his side, facing the soundly sleeping figure of a pink haired woman. Sure the hair rollers and green mask she put on when she sleeps bugged him in the early years of their marriage, but now, being married for almost five years, he couldn’t care less about it. He wondered though, if it was comfortable to be sleeping with things cladding her hair and her face.

The idea of hypnotizing himself to sleep by watching her chest rise up and down, trying to get their rhythm of breathing synchronized so he could fall asleep too eventually, didn’t really work out. So instead he sat at the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, his chin on the open palm, staring emptily in the distance for quite some time until the vibration from his phone on the bedside table broke him out of his trance.

 He quickly lifted it up; because the sound of the phone vibrating against the garnished wooden table would sound like a tar drilling machine at one thirty in the morning. One glance at the number froze Aomine’s entire being; an international number. His eyes, devoid of sleep and tired sparkled for a flashing moment.

He stared hopelessly at the phone, ringing once…ringing twice…

Aomine practically leaped his way out of the room, closed the door behind him and took a deep breath before he tapped on the receiver key on his phone.

Clearing his throat, Aomine wished he hadn’t sound so croaky. “Kagami.”

 

* * *

 

Before Kagami hit the dial button, his mind were running rampage thinking of the alternate ways on how to respond to Aomine. In his mind, he would’ve done it smoothly; say hi, ask how he was, small talk of family, work and the weather, maybe argue a little and make some condescending remark to counter Aomine’s smart mouth.

But the moment that familiar, sexy low baritone voice, the one he loved to hate and to forget hit his eardrum, Kagami went blank and his own voice was stuck at the back of his throat. For a second he forgot how to breathe, struggling with the bubble of emotions that rose up from the dark depth of his heart and was choking him.

“Kagami…?”

Aomine called his name again; he sounded worried. Snapping out of the trance, Kagami coughed and answered the man at the end of the line.

Leaning back on the black leather swivel chair he was sitting on, he could only hope that his voice wasn’t shaky and weak. “Hello…Aomine.”

Silence filled the empty space between them for a very long time. Kagami couldn’t quite figure out what to say, and he was guessing Aomine would have the same trouble. After all, how long had it been since they last talked to each other? Three? No, four years?

“Heh, are you so rich now that you can waste money on international phone calls just to listen to me breathing?”

“S – Shut up! That’s not the reason I called!”

“Then what makes you call me so late at night?”

Kagami glanced around the room of his home office until it landed on the large fancy metallic clock on the wall. It was showing the time at his place; a little over six in the morning, but his mind went back to adjust to the time in Japan and his free hand subconsciously flew to his head; his fingers were raking his red hair.

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry I forgot about the time difference.”

“That’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“Oh.”

“Kagami.”

Kagami knew that sound; the sound of Aomine taking a deep breath and exhaling, the thing he did when he was nervous, and Aomine Daiki; the rude pompous bastard was not a nervous person by nature. This was habitual, the things he came to learn and get used to when they were….

 “Ah.”

“How’s life?” Aomine asked, starting the conversation as though he was the one who initiated the call.

“Life…life’s okay. Business’s good. My dad trusts me with the company fully now. I hate corporate world but I’m getting used to it. And uh…how about yours?” Kagami swallowed the hard lump at back of his throat and clutched the armrest a little too tight. “How is Momoi-san doing?”

“She’s annoying and noisy as ever. We, uh, we had a baby,” Aomine’s voice was much too happy it sounded so fake. “Her name is Reika. She’ll turn two soon.”

“That’s wonderful,” he replied cheerfully, trying to match their mismatched tones that were really out of their characters. His eyes roamed across the table, sifted through the piles of paperwork and hopped between small souvenirs decorating the table before it landed on a single picture frame that stood at the edge of the table. It was a picture of him, a lady with black hair and a boy with the same shade of red on his head being carried in her hands. “I have a boy too. He’s three years old this year. Handsome, like his father.”

Aomine breathed a chuckle. “Please. My Reika is a total heartbreaker your son would totally be all over her. Let’s hope Kagami junior doesn’t end up being as dumb as you are.”

“What did you say, Ahomine?!”

“What, you wanna go, Bakagami?!”

“Bring it on!”

Probably realizing it was in the middle of the night, Aomine hushed at himself and Kagami. It morphed into a snicker, and Aomine’s little laughter made an army of butterflies assault his tummy. How he missed hearing those laughter tickling his ears…

There was a brief moment of silence, and at that, Kagami wondered if Aomine had paused to bit his lips, the thing he subconsciously did whenever he was on the receiving end of a phone call. It was annoying how he still remembered every little quirk about the other male after what felt like eternity.  

With the help of Kuroko, discreetly without Kagami’s father’s knowledge, he had obtained information about Aomine’s whereabouts and his contact number. Every day, for the past one month he had been staring at a blank card scribbled only with a row of digits that made up a phone number. That was until today, after days of sleepless night, he finally gathered enough courage to pick up the phone.

“Aomine.”

“Kagami.”

It wasn’t a surprise how synchronized and alike they were. But Kagami had to take this one first, he had to say it. It had been five years, and it had been slowly killing him on the inside.

“Aomine, I miss you.”

“Dumbass. I’m pretty clear on that part.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but it didn’t sound quite like how he had imagined. “I, uh…”

“I miss you too, Kagami. Fuck I sound so gay.”

“You do,” Kagami chortled, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall. “We were.”

“You got your tense wrong, idiot. We are. I still can’t forget about your stupid ass it’s irritating.”

“I can say the same thing about you.”

“Of course, I own a hot piece of ass. Beat yours anytime.”

“Oh shut up.”

After a little exchange of laughter, seriousness dawned upon Kagami, and he started again.“Aomine, if I could go back to that time…if I had beaten myself to stand up for myself instead of being dragged away, I would…”

“Kagami stop. My parents were already arranging with Satsuki’s about our marriage at that time. They were freaking out that their only son is gay. It is such a shame that our sexuality is not our choice to decide. I was as hopeless as you were. Stop beating yourself about it,” Aomine paused before he continued; his voice was firm as ever. “You don’t have to say it. I love Satsuki. I love Reika. But if there was a slightest chance on getting back what we have lost…. I’d jump for it in a heartbeat.”

“I hate how cool you sounded right now. You used to be so lame.”

“That was you,” scoffed Aomine.

Smiling, Kagami had long accepted the fact that he could never win over Aomine’s argument. “I guess you’re right.” His chestnut eyes were drawn at the window; the brilliant yellow light was already streaming in, basking the room with the light of dawn. “It must be really late there. You should go to sleep, Aomine.”

“I guess so.” Aomine voice fell, and he suddenly sounded so tired. “Oi Kagami.”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes… I wish it was you who is sleeping in the next room.”

Aomine had cut the connection without ever a chance for Kagami to respond. His gripped the phone tighter in his hand and sunk deep in his seat.

There was no word in the languages in this world to express his repressed emotion.

 

* * *

 

Kagami wasn’t sure how long he had been in the room staring off in the distance, until a knock on the door broke his train of empty thoughts. Shuffling through the door was a lady in pink satin night dress, her protruding abdomen was the first thing Kagami noticed. He winced at the pain of reality.

“Good morning honey,” standing next to him, she looped her arm around his shoulder and pressed a kiss on his temple. “You’re up early today.”

Having had a pregnant belly shoved in his face, Kagami brought his arm around her waist and pulled her close and kissed it. “Good morning. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I see,” she ran her fingers through his red hair. “Well, I’ve made breakfast. Today it’s chocolate chip pancake.”

“That’s great.” Kagami smiled, but it felt heavy, insincere. He hated himself for that. She deserved a better treatment; a better guy. “You go first. I’ll be there in a second.”

She kissed an ‘okay’ to his temple again, and strolled off in vain, carrying the heavy load of his baby in her. Kagami could only feel sorry at the sight.

Sighing heavily, he unlocked the bottommost drawer of his work desk to place the card with Aomine’s number next to a framed picture of a younger him and Aomine in their respective jerseys, Aomine’s arm around his shoulder as they grinned the camera. They appeared contented. After all, they had each other and basketball and back then, he knew that it was true love and happiness. His gaze lingered for a short moment before shutting it close.

It was time to lock his past behind, and try to create happiness in his future with what he had.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I was listening to Lips of an Angel the whole time I was writing this piece. This was so heavy I had a hard time writing it, but I got it done nevertheless. Tell me what you think about it. :)


End file.
